Spinning
by Ruby Thorn
Summary: Eponine hadn't been at her post when her family was arrested. Where did she go? She went walking of course, while her imagination toyed with her version of reality... Based on the book. I DO NOT OWN LES MISERABLES!


Eponine looked down at her grimy grey feet as her father ordered her and Azelma to "Pay attention now

Eponine looked down at her grimy grey feet as her father ordered her and Azelma to "Pay attention now! One towards the barriere, the other at the corner of the Rue du Petit Banquier. Don't lose sight of the house door a minute, and if you see the least thing, here immediately! Tumble along! You have the house key to come in with."

Eponine rubbed one foot against the other in an attempt to warm her freezing feet. She adjusted the shoulder of her chemise, which was falling off her arm, and muttered, "To stand sentry barefoot in the snow!"

It would be cold and wet outside, and without shoes she would probably catch cold. Azelma stood beside her, quiet and obedient as always.

"To-morrow you will have boots of beetle-coored silk!" her father answered her.

Eponine looked up hopefully at him. All the fashionable ladies wore those, and to not have to wear those horrid clunky work boots would be a miracle too! Eponine hurried off with Azelma to her duty, to stand watch on Rue du Petit Banquier

Moments after she stepped outside, Eponine's mind began to wander, as it always did. As she stood stationary at her post, her imagination roamed. Her unclad feet froze instantly, and in one of her dream-like dazes, Eponine found herself walking, to where, she didn't know. She walked partially to keep warm, partially because her sub conscious wanted her to, and so she gave in and walked.

As she strolled down the streets of Paris, a scene played out before her eyes, a scene she could have sworn was a reality.

Monsieur Marius was there, dressed in splendor and smiling, linking elbows with her as they walked. She herself was dressed in an elaborate dress, ornamented with lace and countless buttons, a hat decorated with bows, and black stockings with beetle-colored silk boots. Her usual limp, matted hair was clean and curled, falling in neat ringlets down her back.

"Oh Eponine, how beautiful you are!" exclaimed Marius.

"Well thank you Monsieur." She replied. When she spoke she heard herself speaking with a soft feminine voice, not the husky, course one any passer-by would have heard. Eponine laughed, sounding like a drunk, but herself hearing the sound of bells.

"Would you care for a dance?" Monsieur asked, bowing at the waist and smiling at her. Eponine took his arm and the pair started twirling, twirling, twirling. The world spun around them faster and faster as the dance quickened. The wind blowing around her became the sound of a band playing lively music, to which she was dancing. The trees and the buildings turned into glittering marble walls, the stars the faces of her fellow dancers, smiling at her and her partner. "There's a couple in love." They were saying, and music quickened and the spinning increased. Eponine concentrated on Marius's face. He was smiling at her, his curly hair whipping around from the speed of their spinning. She was inches away from him. She smiled and laughed, her hair swirling out behind her. The world became a giant blur. Her fellow dancers watched in envy at her. They were jealous of her, and her beauty, and her partner. She leaned back, safe in the arms of Monsieur Marius. The music was going faster and faster. The world became a blurry haze until a harp pain shot up the back of Eponine's skull.

The spinning gradually slowed down, the band that had been playing the lively tune eventually was silenced. The smiling dancers turned slowly to white orbs hanging in the sky. Even Monsieur Marius's cheery face faded, along with the shimmering ballroom around her. Her fantasy was gone.

Eponine lay on the ground where she had fallen, ignoring the pain in her head, tears falling from her eyes for her lost dream, her lost reality. For only a while she had been Marius's, now she was only a grimy peasant, scarcely clothed in the middle of winter, lying in the road, snow falling on her, weeping for what could never be.


End file.
